Irina turns then, catching my expression. Her eyes meet mine—cold, calculating, and for the first time, almost gentle in their cruelty.
“Don’t look so shocked, Isabella,” she says softly.
My knees buckle. I have to lock them to stay upright.
Lily stirs at the sudden tension in my arms, but I can’t comfort her—my throat has closed completely. The air feels too thick to breathe.
I look around wildly, searching the faces for some sign this is a bluff, a test, anything but the truth. But no one flinches. No one looks surprised. They just adjust positions, check sight lines, wait for orders.
Irina turns to me, as if sensing the moment my heart stops.
“You understand now,” she says quietly, almost kindly. “He is coming for you and the child. He will not stop. He will not negotiate. And he is far more dangerous than any of you realize.”Her gaze sweeps the room again. “Do not hesitate. Do not underestimate him.”
My vision narrows to a pinprick, the marble floor rushing up to meet me. Lily’s weight suddenly feels too much, like I might drop her. A roaring fills my ears—blood, panic, disbelief.
Strong hands catch me before I hit the ground.
“Hey—easy, easy.” Selene’s voice cuts through the haze, low and urgent. She’s there in an instant, sliding an arm around my waist, taking Lily from me with practiced gentleness. My daughter murmurs in her sleep but doesn’t wake, nestling instinctively against Selene’s shoulder.
Louder, Selene says, “I’ll take the child to the kitchen. She shouldn’t be here for this. And the mother needs air—smelling salts, maybe. She’s about to go down.”
Irina glances at us, cool and assessing. For a moment I think she’ll refuse. Then she gives the smallest nod. “Go. Keep the girl close.”
Selene doesn’t wait for further permission. She steers me out of the foyer with one arm braced around my waist, Lily cradled securely in the other. My legs feel like water, but I manage to stay upright until we’re through a side door and into a quieter corridor.
“Do you think he’s going to come here?” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady. The words feel too loud in the quiet room.
Selene stops pacing and looks at me, one eyebrow arched. “He’s coming. That’s not even a question.” She resumes her restless circuit across the rug, arms crossed tight. “But walking straightthrough the front doors like some suicidal hero? No. He’s not an idiot. Aleksander never walks into anything blind. He’ll scout, he’ll probe, he’ll find the weak spot and tear it open before anyone even knows he’s here.”
She speaks about him with a certainty that goes beyond hearsay—like someone who’s watched him work, someone who’s stood in the same rooms and seen the way he thinks. There’s no fear in her voice, only a grim kind of confidence.
“He doesn’t charge in guns blazing,” she continues, almost to herself. “Irina knows that better than anyone, which is why she’s stacking the foyer with hired guns instead of her own people. She knows loyalty won’t hold when he starts moving.”
I stare at her, the pieces clicking together. The familiarity in her tone, the absolute faith that he’ll outmaneuver this trap…it’s too personal.
“Wait,” I say slowly, my eyes narrowing. “You’re S, aren’t you?”
Selene freezes mid-step. For a second the room is perfectly still, only Lily’s soft breathing breaking the silence.
I keep going, voice low. “I saw it on his phone earlier when we were in the hotel. You were keeping tabs on me.”
Selene turns, and a slow, crooked smile curves her mouth. “He updated me as soon as you landed,” she says.
Before I can press further, she crosses to me in two quick strides and crouches again, resting her hands on the arms of my chair.
“Listen,” she says, voice urgent now. “I need you to stay right here with Lily. Keep the door locked from the inside if you can. Don’t open it for anyone except me. I’m going to slip out and seewhat I can find out—where the patrols are thin, if there’s a way to get a message to him before he gets too close.”
I nod, but even as I do, something stubborn and terrified coils in my chest. Staying put feels like surrender.
Selene straightens, checks the hallway through the cracked door, then disappears without another word. The lock clicks softly behind her.
I wait maybe thirty seconds.
Then I’m on my feet, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. I scoop Lily up—she’s still dead asleep, warm and trusting—and ease the door open. The corridor is empty. I pad barefoot along the runner rug, past closed doors and dim sconces, following the faint draft of cooler air until I find a side door that opens onto the gardens.
Lily is getting heavier by the minute, her head drooping on my shoulder, arms limp and legs swinging with every step. My muscles ache from holding her so tight for so long. I dart outside and tuck her down behind a thick hedge, just out of sight, and kiss her forehead. She stirs, but doesn’t wake.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” I whisper, throat tight. “Stay here, okay?”
